Maybe Someday
by HeartbreakDevil
Summary: Set shortly after 'Wilson' rating for langauge. First chapter can now be considered a proper summary I suppose
1. Chapter 1

This scintilla of love and profuse amount of sadness mingled with loneliness coupled with hate. It was disgusting but that was the way in which I lived each day. Dragging my feet through the sands of time seemed to get more difficult with every day. It got harder after the infarction and then almost unbearable when Stacy left. Wilson makes it better sometimes but he can only do so much.

I sat alone on my couch watching the tiny people with their fake lives, all of them wishing they were someone else. That's all acting ever really is.

The silence is suffocating. I can't breath. I should call Wilson and have him come over before the silence overwhelms me, drags me deeper into my man-made pit of sorrow, and I do something reckless and stupid. The problem is that _Wilson_ is part of my problem. When he's here I'm not myself. I feel lighter as if there isn't this oppressing weight on my shoulders any more. I feel…right. As in not completely fucked up. I shouldn't feel that way. I don't deserve it.

There was a knock at my door. I hate the way Wilson always knocks before entering even though he lives here.

The door opened with a soft groan and Wilson walked in, snow falling from his jacket. "I brought the beer." He said holding up a case of the amber liquid.

Amber. Fuck. I hate when I remember things like that. Sometimes I wish I had died from the crash or the DBS or the knife in the socket or an 'accidental' overdose. The list goes on.

"Great." I said, putting false cheer in my voice. I folded my arms over my chest and tried to focus all my attention on the television but I couldn't. I could smell him from where I was sitting. I could tell it was his scent because it was the only odor out of place. It was different from our new apartment smell or the smell of his old apartment. He smelled good though, clean, like he just stepped out the shower. There was another scent too. Paper. That was it. Wilson smelled like paper when it just comes out the printer. I know this because I used to spend a lot of time at the library when I younger, printing out articles I thought I might like to read later. That's how I could place it. That's also probably why I liked it so much.

"Is something wrong?" He asked as he sat beside me. He handed me a beer with one perfectly manicured hand. I would never tell him that I used to touch his hand while he was sleeping just to see if they were as soft as they looked. They were but not only that, they were also softer then Stacy's. I liked them.

I shook my head. "Nope. Everything's fine." I was lying but I couldn't tell the truth to Wilson. He would only feel bad and try and put all the blame on himself.

I could literally feel his gaze on me and I squirmed under it for about a minute until he let out a long sigh. "Alright, whatever you say."

He took a long drink from his beer and I looked over as he did so, watching his lips make contact with the bottle. I watched as he licked his lips slowly to capture the lingering taste of the beer and I licked my own without thought.

"Wilson." I don't know why I said his name aloud but I do know I liked the sound of it. I liked the way my tongue touched the roof of my mouth when I said it. God, I _loved_ it.

"Yeah?" He asked with a slight raise of the eyebrow.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye, studying the wrinkles of his shirt instead of looking at his eyes. I loved the way his eyes got looked in this light. "I'm kind of hungry. Let's go to the new Chinese restaurant."

Wilson shrugged. That casual little gesture made me want to rip off his shirt and make him do it again just so I can watch the muscles move under the skin.

"Great." I heaved myself to my feet and my leg gave out so I come crashing back down on the couch. "Shit." I hissed under my breath. I hated this, this pain that made me weak.

Wilson sat next to me, rubbing my back without thought. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine." I said through clenched teeth. Of course fine was just an acronym: Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.

"No, you're not. You're obviously in a lot of pain-"

"You think?" I snapped sarcastically. I could see it hurt him and I hated myself for it even if it only lasted a second. "I'm sorry." I added in a quieter voice.

"It's alright." He kept rubbing my back as I gripped my thigh.

I snapped in split second. "No, Wilson, it's not _alright_. It's fucking awful and you and those other stupid bastards can't seem to comprehend that." I yelled. I knew I was hurting him but the pain in my leg was so bad I couldn't care at the moment. I had to make this stop.

Wilson wrapped his arms around me, the same way he had when I first had the infarction and Stacy was gone or when drugs seemed to do nothing. "I know I don't but I'm trying, House. Give me some credit."

I bent over my leg, gripping just below the chunk of missing muscle. "Get the hell away from me." I didn't want him here. I didn't want him to see me like this.

"I'm trying to help you." Wilson pulled back a little but his arm was still loosely draped around my shoulders. "Let me help."

"You can't help me, Wilson." I lashed out, sweeping my arm in an arc. The lamp that had been sitting on the stand next to our couch came crashing to the floor. The breaking of glass made me flinch but I quickly got over it and the expectation of a punishment. "Just go away." I whined. I _whined_. I hadn't done that since I was three and I hated it.

He got up. The bastard was actually listening to me. He always knew when I wanted him but now he was leaving. I closed my eyes as his arm slipped from my shoulders and grasped a handful of my Barking Irons T-shirt. I felt incredibly ill at the moment.

I listened to him make his way across the room and heard a door slam closed. I wanted to scream for him, make him come back and wrap his arms around me but I couldn't. I wanted to tell him how satisfied I would be if he just sat on the end of the Goddamn couch. I didn't.

"Here." I didn't even hear him come back but there he was, wiping of the thin layer of sweat on my forehead with a cool cloth.

I didn't say anything. I just sat there, praying to a god I didn't believe in to make the pain disappear. I think I would've broken something else if Wilson hadn't been there.

"You'll be fine." He murmured in my ear. He put his arm back around my shoulder and squeezed briefly.

For the next half an hour he held me, murmuring soothing words in my ear. I hung on to every word and repeated it in my mind just so I could try and focus on something else. Then the pain finally dissipated and I slowly loosened my grip on my thigh. My fingers stiff and numb from holding on for so long. Wilson tossed the cloth over the low wall into the kitchen sink. The lucky bastard. He took my hands in his and rubbed gently. He was looking at me but I couldn't look back. I didn't want him to see the vulnerability in my eyes. Maybe one I would. Maybe someday I would tell him how much I care.

**AN- Maybe I'll add onto it. I don't really know yet. I don't even know why I wrote it. I guess it was just one of those days.**


	2. Chapter 2

I was hiding from Cuddy…again. I went to the jogging park this time even though it was so cold it just made my leg hurt a little more. Wilson had been in my office every chance he could get since we moved in together. He was probably afraid of facing Cuddy's wrath alone. He didn't have enough practice as I did. Besides that the supposed sympathy he felt for me because of my latest breakthrough pain was smothering. I had to get out of there. So I laid on one of the tables hoping I could just be left alone today.

It wasn't to long until someone came looking for me though. I just didn't think it would be this one particular person.

"Hey." My view of the grey sky was filled with Chase's face.

"Hey." I replied. "Cuddy sent you?"

"No. She's busy with donors." Chase took my arm and placed it on my stomach so he could sit beside me.

"And you came looking for me why?"

He shrugged and did one of those hair flips to get the hair from in front of his face. "Thought maybe you'd want to grab a bite to eat."

"Is this your attempt to make yourself feel better about punching me?"

"Yes."

"I don't want your apology nor do I need it." I turned my head away to look at the pond. It seemed a much better view.

"Actually, I really want you to come out with me."

"What for?" I didn't want to go out, didn't want to move. My leg just hurt so bad it didn't seem worth the effort. It was times like this I craved for the vicodin or so other painkiller.

"Because I've noticed you've had a loss of appetite ever since the case."

"It tends to happen when I'm busy." There was a hint a irritation in my voice that I couldn't keep out. I wasn't irritated with him just life in general. "Besides, the case is over."

"Also, you're the only one who wouldn't pity me and avoid even mentioning Allison's name."

"Well, you know me. I'm the biggest cold-hearted bastard out there." I turned my face slightly just so I could see his reaction.

His bottom lip was drawn in and his eyebrows furrowed as he gave a small shake of his head. "No, that's not it at all." He looked at me with an expression that seemed to say he couldn't find the words he wanted. "You have this completely different view of the world. It's as if you simply accept things that happen. You don't try to deny it and make it seem better when it isn't. I like that."

I snorted loudly. "You have a sadly misconstrued idea of who I am."

"Then tell me what you're really like." He leaned a little closer to me so I could feel the warmth of his breath on my brow. "I want to know that you're not some cold-hearted bastard."

A small shudder ran down my spine and I focused on a woman walking casually with her child by her side. The woman wore a yellow and black shirt with black pants. Her red hair pulled back in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Her daughter was like a copy, same red hair and everything.

"Did you hear me?" I heard Chase's voice as if it came from far off and had to zone back into our conversation.

"No. What did you say?" I asked. I wished he would just go away now and leave me with the silence I wanted.

He tilted his head slightly, a lock of blonde hair falling into his eyes. "If you needed to, would you call me?"

The question took me by surprise. I sat up, propping myself up with my left hand. "What are you talking about?"

"If Wilson was ever gone and you felt yourself slipping, would you call me?"

"What do you know that you're not telling me?" I asked with a questioning glare. If there was something about Wilson that he was keeping from me I would find out soon enough.

"Nothing, I swear." Chase held up his hand defensively. "I was just wondering because it's happened before. Next time I want you to know that you could call if you needed me."

This turn in the conversation was random and way too personal for my liking. I had to get him out of here and away from me as soon as possible.

"I've known you long enough to tell when you want your space." Chase said. He hopped off the park table and put his hand on my shoulder. "I meant what I said, House."

I moved out from under his hand and tried to look at anything but him. But my eyes kept going back to his. I could tell when a person was jerking me around and he wasn't. That's what made it so much harder.

With a sigh, he let his hand drop to his side. "You should probably get back to work soon. Cuddy won't be distracted by donors for much longer."

"She'll find me when she needs me."

Chase nodded and turned on his heel to make his way back to the hospital. I watched him as he walked, his hands neatly tucked into the pockets of his grey coat. His shoulders sagged a little more than usual today and he walked just a little slower as if he had weights tied to his feet. The sooner he got over Cameron the better.

I took my cell from my pocket and quickly dialed a number. As it rang I watched Chase pause on his way to his car and pull out his phone. He turned around and, even though I couldn't see from that far away, I'm sure he looked surprised.

"_Hello?"_ Chase said after he finally picked up.

"So," I said. "Where did you want to go?"

* * *

I'm opening it back up because, believe it or not, I read your reviews and I'm writing this for you. Also, it's up to you whether you want H/W slash or just friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

"What is that and where have you been?" Wilson asked, pointing an accusing finger at my carefully packaged meal as soon as I walked through the door of our apartment.

"Hello to you too." I mumbled. Switching the food and cane from one hand to the other, I shed my jacket and threw it on the couch just to annoy him further.

"Is that a Reuben?" Wilson opened the container right after I set in the refrigerator. Honestly, who goes through someone else's stuff like that? What an ass.

"My God, Wilson, it's just food. Don't get your panties in a bunch." Sinking comfortably into the couch and rubbing at my thigh, I turned on the television only to change it quickly when an army commercial popped up. Anything military related caused years of repressed anger to come bubbling up to the surface.

"So you were gone three hours getting a Reuben?" Wilson asked incredulously.

"Relax, I went to work. You saw me." I replied with a roll of my eyes.

"For five hours. In which you played cards, harassed nurses, and slept in the MRI room." I tried to turn up the volume to drown him out but he came around and snatched the remote from my hand to turn off the television. "Do you know how many times I called you? Four times, House." He answered my indifferent shrug. His voice rose an octave high with irritation and when I tried to snatch the remote back he moved it beyond my reach.

"Wow that's really serious." Sarcasm practically dripping from my mouth.

"An hour."

"Just because we live together does not make us a couple. I have no obligation to answer your calls. Now, give me back the remote. Dawson's Creek is on." I was swiftly getting fed up with his smothering and if he didn't back off soon Cuddy was going to have to find a new head of oncology.

"The only way I knew you were still alive was because Chase text me that he found you. Thank God someone has some sense."

Eyes narrowed, I snarled, "Were you afraid another crazed gunman got me or were you afraid I got piss drunk and killed someone else you love?" That's was it. All the progress we had made after the crash was going to come crashing down around my ears just because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"That's not fair." He pointed at me accusingly. "Why would you even bring that up? So I'd leave you alone and sulk? Do you think I blame you for her death? I don't."

"Could've fooled me." I turned my focus to the blank screen just so I wouldn't have to see him.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I saw he had the confused boyish expression he always got when he is genuinely baffled when I glanced up. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips slightly parted.

Exasperated by the whole ordeal and hoping to salvage what was left of our friendship, I rose to my feet and made my way to my room as quickly as I could, leaving my cane behind.

"Oh no, you're not going to bring up my dead girlfriend and simply walk away." Wilson blocked my path with his body, hands on his hips as he moved when I moved to prevent me from getting past.

"I would if you would move out my damn way." I grasped my thigh and waited for him to fold and get out my way. He didn't.

"And why bring up the gunman? Do you want me to feel guilt that I wasn't there?"

"Shut your Goddamn mouth and get the fuck out my way." I replied in a dangerously low voice through clenched teeth. White-hot nails were being driven into my thigh and if it didn't stop soon I would go insane.

Wilson ignored me and continued his tirade. "Because then you would be able to feel less guilty."

"Yes, Wilson, I feel guilty. Amber died but it was _not_ my fault." I yelled, angry at him and at the injustice of life. "Everyone believes I have some sort of God complex but I don't and I'm reminded of it every minute of every day. I had no control over the bus or what she took. I am not God but obviously _you're_ the one that doesn't know that."

"What are you trying to say?" His voice cracked and there were tears welling in his soft brown eyes but I barely took any notice of because I was so angry my nostrils flared and every muscle in my body tensed. In short, my hackles were raised.

"Don't play stupid." I snorted with no trace amusement.

"I'm not. Don't fault me for not being able to follow your twisted logic."

"The note Amber wrote you the night of the crash, it's in your wallet. You look at the damn thing five times a day and if I'm around after you've read it you always give me this look of complete blame and utter contempt. I'm sorry she died. I would have given my kidneys if I could just to make you happy but you asked me to risk my life and I did. I nearly lost my mind just to have you walk in my room and look at me as if I was shit. You're fucked up Wilson. More fucked up then I am." Whatever sliver of friendship I could have salvaged before was probably gone now.

Wilson just stood there, stunned by my words with a look of shock plastered on his face. I brushed past him and struggled to remain upright, my leg threatening to buckle with ever step, until I was able to collapse on my bed only after slamming the door closed. Grinding my teeth together pain an irritation, I pressed the heels of my hand to my eyes until I saw stars. Months of repressed anger over misplaced blame had come rushing forth and I snapped at the only person I could ever really call a friend. I felt sick out of my mind and all I could think was how I would leap out the window just to get away at the moment. Forcing myself to calm down, I drifted slowly into a fitful rest filled with the sounds of gunshots and screams.

I died in my dreams. Every life-threatening incident ever occurred in my life replayed itself in my mind and I died with each. Overdose, fall from my third story window when I was ten, the knife in the socket, the bus crash all brought with them the pain and the raw emotion felt at the time.

When I woke I was nothing more than a shivering mass of tensed muscle, cold with the sweat that covered my body. A warm hand touched my forearm. The sudden and unexpected contact startled me and I jerked violently to escape it. Unfortunately I hadn't realized I had been at the edge so my arms flailed about, trying to stop my inevitable fall. The hand reached out and grabbed mine but it was too late and we both toppled over the edge. My head hit the floor with a dull thud but not hard enough to cause any damage.

"Damn it, House." Wilson groaned as he lay sprawled on top of me. What the hell was that?" He sat up and gingerly rubbed his right elbow.

"You prick, what the hell do you think it was about? You startled me." I snapped. Pain ran like wildfire through the damaged muscle. I clamped my right hand over it and used my left to push myself back from between his legs. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"I wanted to talk to you." He rose to his feet and offered a hand. "Our conversation shouldn't have ended were it did."

Ignoring the hand and the comment, I jumped onto my left foot and practically hopped to the bathroom.

"So you're not going to talk about it?" Wilson leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. "Fine, don't talk but at least listen."

"There's nothing to talk about." I tried to push past him but he pushed against me, backing me up with his body until the sink's counter dug uncomfortably into my lower back. "Have you fucking lost it?" I had a deep-rooted fear of being restrained so my heart hammered in my chest almost painfully. I placed my hands on the counter to try and push back against him but he took them in his own and held them at my sides. His pelvic crushed against mine so that I was trapped between him and the sink.

"Now will you listen to me?" He asked. He was so close I could feel his breath on my jaw.

"I don't see how I have much of a choice in the matter." I squirmed a bit as I spoke but stopped abruptly at his next words.

"I wouldn't have to do this if you weren't so damn stubborn. I shouldn't have to resort to getting physical just to get you to listen."

Any fear I had felt gave way to anger and I shoved roughly against him. "That's right. I say one thing you don't like and suddenly you've got every right to put your hands all over me." Pushing again I almost had enough room to break free but he pressed the whole length of his body against mine but being careful to give my right leg space.

"It's not like that and you know it. Just shut up and listen to me."

"Get your hands off." I growled.

"I sorry if I made you feel… like it was your fault. I was angry at you, yes, but only because you're so reckless it scares me. I'm sorry I asked you to risk your life but I didn't think you were shit I thought I was for making you go through that. And yes I am possibly more fucked up than you." Wilson said in one long breath. He stared at me expectantly, hoping that somehow all that would make me feel better. I let out a slow shaky breath and without think about it, I leaned forward slightly until our foreheads touched and closed my eyes. Wilson lifted his head, his cheek brushing over mine, until his lips were pressed against my temple.


	4. Chapter 4

His breath was warm on my skin as he passed his lips over the evening shadow of my cheek, breathing lightly as he did so, and pressed them against mine. He pulled his body back slightly so the counter was no longer digging into my back but not so far that the lengths of our bodies still touched. Wilson's right hand lightly travelled up my arm and his hand rested on the back of my neck, the fingers running smoothly over the close cropped hairs at the base of my neck.

I was the one who pulled away, my body chilled by the lack of body heat that was radiating from him. His lips were so soft it hurt to pull away but we shouldn't do this. This small simple kiss could ruin everything we've worked for. Stepping away, I turned my gaze away from him to stare at the door and the grain of the wood rather than look at the almost hurt expression on his boyish face. It was agony not to look at the one person that I may actually say I loved but I refused even when he softly called my name.

"House." Wilson said again. I loved the way my name rolled off his tongue. A pang of distress ran through me as he gently touched my arm but I kept my focus on the couch. "Greg, look at me. Please?" He ran his fingers over my arm again in an intimate gesture.

"Stop." I commanded in a low voice, brushing aside his hand. I tried to walk away but Wilson stepped in front of me to block my path.

"Can we just talk?" His eyes pleaded with me to stop and hear out what he had to say.

"We were until you practically assaulted me." Rather than look at his puppy dog eyes I focused in on his shirt, studying each stitch. The pain in the mutilated muscle of my thigh flared from Wilson's earlier attack so I put all my weight on my left leg to alleviate the pain.

Wilson held up his hands. "No touching." He promised.

"Don't do this." I said with a sigh as I ran the knuckle of my thumb over my forehead. "We only just got back to this point in our friendship. Don't ruin this for me."

"You're wrong if you think we were just friends after Amber died."

My body tensed and my heart sank automatically at those words. I forced my face into a blank mask as I spoke. "So what does that mean? You were just playing along? You didn't want to seem like a bad guy so you came back. Is that the real reason you came back? Tell me now so I can figure out whether to punch you and leave or just leave."

"I hope you don't do either but let me finish. I can't say you're wrong that I came back so I wouldn't seem like a bad guy. I know myself well enough to know that I'm a people pleaser-"

"Which is exactly why we would never work as anything more as friends. You could never come out to anyone especially if it you knew it would get back to your parents. It would disappoint them to know you play with another man's unmentionables and you're such a perfect son you wouldn't do anything to hurt them." I sneered, angry but not at him. I knew him well enough to know what he would do. I was angry at myself for even entertaining thoughts of the two of us together.

"How would you know that they would be disappointed? How do you know they wouldn't be happy for me? You've never even met them." "Wilson crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me with frustration.

"I met them at your last wedding. They came up to me after they gave you the traditional blessings." I leaned back against the counter, looking away as I recalled the conversation I had with his parents.

"Well, what did they say?"He asked expectantly.

"Enough to let me know that they wouldn't be particularly pleased of you were involved with someone of the same gender especially me. Not like I was thinking of it at the time, you had just gotten married." I wouldn't admit it but their casual words actually stung me enough so that I had hastily made an escape from the wedding a few minutes later.

"I don't believe they would disapprove." Wilson said incredulously. "In fact, I'll call them." The frustrated expression fell from his face and was replaced by a small smile almost as if he expected something great to happen.

"Wilson, stop. Don't ruin things." I lunged for him as he reached in his pocket for his cell but he quickly jumped out the way.

"I'm not. I'm fixing things." He replied, running out into the kitchen to use the island as a barrier.

"Telling your parents you're gay doesn't fix anything. It just complicates things and they're just as likely to write you out their will."

"Shows how much you know, they refuse to right one." He said quickly before holding up a hand for silence and placing the phone to his ear. "Hello? Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"Wilson, let it go." I hissed, stilling reaching for the phone.

He ignored me except to wave a hand for silence. "Can you put Mom on to?...Thanks.

"I swear if you say anything I'll key your car."

"Have fun." He replied with a grin. He was obviously excited by this whole affair and apparently hadn't thought of any negative consequences. "Hi, Mom. I have something to tell you."

"Goddammit, Wilson. If your parents hate you after this don't blame me."

"I love someone and I really mean it….Who? Greg House... yes, the jackass of a best friend you met at my wedding." I could hear his parents' voices from where I stood though I couldn't make out what they were saying. And as they spoke the smile slipped from Wilson's face and he began to start sentences only to be cut off. I would have felt sorry for him if I hadn't already warned him.

He shoved the phone in my direction. "Here." He muttered sourly.

"This is your fault. Don't drag me into it." I said shaking my head slowly.

"You were wrong; they're not disappointed."

"Yeah, that's obvious by the look on your face."

Wilson shook his head. "It's not that. They think… just talk to them and you'll see." He put the phone on the island, waiting for me to pick it up.

"Hello?" My mouth was suddenly dry and I felt like I was two again and in trouble for something I didn't do.

"Hello, Greg." Wilson's dad's voice was gruff on the phone, a stark contrast to Wilson's mom's soft feminine voice.

"Hello, sir. Hello, Ma'am." All of my father's strict rules and military influences decided to come flooding back at once. My back even straightened a little.

I could hear the Wilsons laugh quietly on the other line. "There's no need for such formalities, Greg." Wilson's father's voice softened on the other end of the line.

"Yes, sir…I mean…ok." I stammered a reply.

"Greg, James hasn't manipulated you has he?" Wilson's mother asked in a soft velveteen voice.

The question was so unexpected I didn't know what to do but laugh. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilson." I apologized quickly, looking up to see Wilson crossing his arms and a frown set on his features. "Mrs. Wilson, I wouldn't have been surprised if you had asked if _I _had manipulated _him_."

"And from what I hear you are quite the manipulator but James unintentionally manipulates people." Wilson's father said roughly. "Oh, we're sure he means well but we don't want anyone else getting hurt like his ex-wives."

"So you're not upset?" I asked incredulously. I didn't even think of their concern for my emotional well-being.

"Oh, Gregory, you must be thinking about what we said at the wedding but I assure you we didn't mean it seriously." Mrs. Wilson told me gently.

"You told me you were thankful Wilson was getting married and was 'spending his time more productively'. You also said you hope none of my maniacal nature rubbed off on him." I was frustrated suddenly that they thought their words so frivolous. "I also overheard you tell your husband that you thought I was, and I quote, 'mentally unstable'." Which technically I was but not every detail of my life needed to be shared.

"They told you that?" Wilson whispered skeptically. Without another word he quickly walked around the kitchen island and grabbed the phone from my hand. "Mom, you told him that? Why would you say something like that?" He paused, hand perched on his hip and his face contorted in quiet fury.

"Wilson, calm down. It's not like I haven't heard worse." As much as I hated his parents words I didn't hate them and I refused to be the one to strain this relationship of Wilson's.

"No, it's not alright." He snapped. "I always stand aside when people walk over you but I'm not doing that anymore."

"I'm a big boy, James. I think I can take care of myself." I replied casually as I leaned against the island to take the weight off my bad leg.

"Fuck that." He growled sullenly before resuming his conversation with his parents. "I don't know what you were trying to prove but I can't believe my own parents would say such things. You taught us to be polite and here you are doing the complete opposite."

"You do realize you just called your parents hypocrites, right?" I sighed. He turned his back to me as he listened to them speak. He paid such full attention to what they were saying he didn't see me come around until I had already pulled the phone from his grasp.

"Please, excuse your son." I said calmly, cutting through their ceaseless chatter. No wonder Wilson paid such close attention, you had to if you wanted to make out anything intelligible. "He's slightly emotionally due to his recent confession of love."

"No, Gregory, he's right. I apologize for what was said." Mrs. Wilson offered the apology for the both of them. "We're not opposed to you two being a couple."

"We're not a couple." I responded immediately and without thought. Wilson's shoulders slumped a little at those words. She probably still thought I was mentally unstable but I wasn't going to call attention to it.

Mr. Wilson laughed loudly on the other end. "So what do you call each other? Husbands? Lovers?" He laughed again as I expressed my surprise at his choice of words with a snort. "Trust me, we are well aware of our son's sexual exploits. You two are more of a couple than anything else."

I smiled lightly. "I suppose if you look at the dictionary definition of the word then Wilson and I would be considered a couple."

"Good. We'll leave you now. But, Greg?" Came Wilson's mother's soft voice.

"Yes?"

"You know James so this won't come as much of a surprise."

"What is it, Mr. Wilson?"

"Please, call me Maria. Gregory, when Wilson proposes and if you say yes you will have a proper Jewish wedding, right?"

I held the phone out a foot from my ear as her husband practically howled with laughter and ignored Wilson's baffled expression.

"She wants to add an ex-husband to the list." Mr. Wilson said after he quieted down some.

"It's a reasonable concern." She combated. "After all, I probably won't be getting any grandchildren. The least I can ask for is a wedding done the right way."

"Mrs. Wilson, I don't think it could be considered a proper Jewish wedding."

"Please, you'll try and memorize some Hebrew blessings won't you?"

I laughed softly. "I don't think many children pertains to us."

"Greg, I don't know how many marriages I can take. Let's make this a good solid one."

"Mrs. Wilson, no one said we were getting married."

"Married?" Wilson's eyes widened as he spoke. "Who told her we were getting married?"

"I promise to do the whole 'according to the law of Moses' and everything _if_ that's the way things turn out." I said, ignoring Wilson's demanding gestures for the phone.

"But you'll do it right?" She persisted.

"Maria, leave the boy alone. What will be will be." Her husband said with a sigh.

"When I put the ring on his finger I'll do it proper and say_ 'Harei'at mekudeshet li betaba'at zo, kedat moshe v'visrael'_."

Wilson's mother clapped her hands in joy. "Wonderful, Gregory. Now I can rest easy."

"Mazal tov to the both of you."

"Mazal tov." She repeated after her husband. "And, please, don't be shy about visiting."

After I hung up, I stared at the phone for a minute, unsure of how exactly I felt.

"House?"

I looked up sharply and met Wilson's gaze. "They said mazal tov."

"Great." He beamed. "It doesn't absolve them of what they said but it's still good."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "It's over." Brushing past him, I tried to make my way to the couch but he stepped in my way. "God damn, Wilson. What now?"

"Did mean what you said?"

"I often mean what I say. You should try it sometime."

"I'm serious, House. When you told my parents we were a couple, did you mean it?" His gaze was steady but he looked unsure, almost afraid of my answer.

I didn't say anything. I just stared back until he looked down, staring at the floor in disappointment and moved aside to let me past. When I didn't move he looked up at me again, brown eyes filled with hurt and disappointment.

"You have to be the biggest manipulator I've ever met." I laughed softly and tenderly kissed his lips.

"Were they right? Did I manipulate you?" Wilson asked with a smile.

"James, you couldn't manipulate me if you really tried."

* * *

AN- Yes, I know, it took forever for me to put this up but I was sick...very sick. And for those of you reading my other House fic I'm working on it so don't worry.


	5. Chapter 5

I had been in Wilson's room before, borrowing his socks or using his bathroom, but it is a whole other experience entirely to be lying in his bed let alone sharing it. I was surrounded by all of his things, each un-extraordinary yet special simply because they were his, and every breath I took smelled like Wilson, shower fresh with an underlying scent of something akin to freshly printed paper. His arm was draped over my side where he had placed it roughly half an hour after he fell asleep. Briefly, I had thought of moving it and pushing him over to his own god damn side of the bed but the weight of his arm was so comforting and his warm breath on the back of my neck was so soothing that I let him stay.

I had the urge to say his name suddenly, loudly, and know that for once I wasn't talking to just a friend or colleague but something more and infinitely better. Softly, I called his name in the darkness, my fingers brushing over the soft skin of his wrist. Wilson stirred slightly in his sleep and drew closer to me so that his chest was pressed against my back, only the thin materials of our undershirts touching, and his thighs lightly touching the back of mine. His hand drifted up so his fingers were splayed over my chest. I imagined momentarily that he was awake and could feel my heart hammer under his palm and know that he was the reason it kept going. He had saved me so many times from accidental overdoses and drunken nights where I was close to asphyxiating on my own vomit that I had lost count. Wilson saved me by just being there when I felt completely alone and the melancholy was suffocating. I never fully realize how close to the edge I'm living until Wilson drags me back. Of course I always end up right back no matter what he does. But this time is different. There are no drugs to threaten to bring me down, no alcohol to drown my liver in, and I've gotten help to manage my life better. Yet it still feels the same. I still feel like I'm on the edge, one step from losing my mind completely.

Insomnia. It's a bitch. After I watched the red numbers change and read one A.M. I knew I wasn't going to sleep. So I counted. One. Two. Ten. Thirty. Fifty-six times since the hour started that Wilson exhaled, his warm breath on my neck making me shiver. I could've gotten up and watched television but I didn't. I wanted this, this feeling of ease and belonging that was embodied in this person beside me. I wanted to turn and shake him awake to tell him that I wasn't as callous as I look, that I do have the capability to feel something that's not entirely negative.

Time ticked slowly past. So slowly in fact that I turned over so I wouldn't look at the clock anymore even though I was now lying on my bad leg. But the pain wasn't so bad at this instant and I shifted my hip slightly so my left leg wouldn't rest on top of it. It wasn't until after a few moments had passed did I realize the Wilson and I were practically nose-to-nose. He arm was still draped over me, hands clenching and unclenching sporadically, fisting my undershirt. Ever cautious, I reached out to touch his jaw with the calloused pads of my fingers. I let them drift down until they rested at his collarbone and let my eyes close in one last vain effort to fall asleep.

I don't know how long we lay there, Wilson with his dreams and me wondering what he dreamt of, when my leg had a sudden spasm. Rolling over quickly, I bit into the first knuckle to bite back a cry as Wilson groaned and shifted behind me.

"Fuck." I growled in a voice so low it was almost gravelly. I cast an eye out for my cane, snagging a glance at the clock. Already it was half past five. Forgoing the cane, I left the room as quietly as any cripple could, leaving Wilson half-asleep on the bed.

Before I could even open the door he was sitting up, ruffling his hair wearily and calling my name.

"Go back to sleep, Wilson." I said, grasping the doorknob so tightly I'm sure my knuckles paled. I didn't move for a minute because to move would only make it worse so I breathed through it. I was breathing so heavily, concentrating so much on making the pain lessen even just a little that I didn't hear Wilson come up behind me.

"Come back to bed." He said as he gently pried my fingers from the knob. Wilson wrapped his arm around me, his fingers resting lightly on my hip, and slung my arm over his shoulders to use him as a makeshift cane.

"Thanks." I murmured, massaging the afflicted area vigorously with the heel of my hand.

"No problem." Wilson sat down beside me on the tangled covers and scrubbed his face with a weary hand. "You look awful. Did you even sleep?"

Briefly I thought of lying but it didn't seem worth the effort. "No." I answered honestly.

Taking a deep breath, Wilson leaned against my shoulder and groaned. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Stay up all night and still function during the day."

I gave a humorless snort. "It takes years of practice and a good cup of coffee in the morning." Turning my head slightly to the left, Wilson soft hair tickled my nose and I could breathe in the fruity shampoo he liked so much.

With a yawn, Wilson turned his head so his nose was practically buried in my neck and glanced at the clock. "Well, I sure as hell wouldn't be coherent right now if I were you."

"You're hardly ever coherent." I said laughingly and gave a grateful sigh as the pain tapered off to its usual dull throb.

"You're hilarious, Greg." Wilson grumbled out the side of his mouth and yawned again. "Coffee would be nice though."

Every time he spoke his breath came warm on my neck, making the hairs rise, and a lump rose in my throat as I tried to calm the sudden swirl of emotions that had risen in my chest. Unable to stand it anymore, I brought are lips together and brought my hand up to the back of his neck to bring him closer. I traced my tongue along his lower lip and he parted his tender lips just enough so that I could slip my tongue in and explore. It was like I was trying to memorizing a map inside his mouth. I lingered over the ridges at the roof, the little valleys of his teeth, and wondered whenever he would bring his tongue in and almost seemed to battle it with mine for a few seconds before moving aside and letting me explore some more. With my free hand I reached under his shirt and ran the hand over the soft skin of his abdomen and chest until I felt his nipple and rolled it in between my thumb and forefinger. Wilson gasped, leaving my lips wanting but he quickly brought his lips to mine, this time putting his tongue in my mouth before I could. I slipped my hand from under the cotton undershirt and palmed Wilson over his pants, feeling him harden under the thin material. He removed his tongue from my mouth and went to first to kiss my neck then to nip and suck at it. I was so wrapped up in the sensational feeling of his lips and teeth on my neck that it hardly registered in my mind that he was maneuvering into a different position until I was flat on my back with Wilson's knees on either side of my hips.

Wilson let out a satisfied breathed as he dropped onto his back beside me, an almost goofy grin plastered on his face. The air cooled the air from my bare back and I gazed at the sweat glistening on Wilson's exposed chest in the early morning light. A feeling of euphoria came over me as I realized for the second time that this was it. We were without a doubt a couple. And a feeling of flawlessness ran through me so that I matched my lover's smile with one of my own.

_AN- So I'm absolutely horrified that's it's taken me this long to update but here it is and you can thank insomnia for it otherwise it probably never would've been written._


	6. Chapter 6

_Two months later_

"House."

"Wilson."

"Seriously, House."

"Seriously, Wilson."

"Why my clothes? You don't even _like_ my clothes."

"Yes I do. I just don't like them on me." As if to prove my point, the corners of my mouth turned down in a slight frown as I rolled up the sleeves on one of Wilson's shirts.

He was lying on the bed, propped up on one elbow to look at me. "Why don't you just wash your clothes on a regular basis?"

"I forgot."

"No you didn't because you tried to slip your band shirts in with my whites which, I remind you, do not go together."

"Whoops." I sat down beside him and felt under the bed for my Nikes. There was a sudden sharp stabbing sensation in my thigh and I inhaled harshly through my nose at the flare of pain.

Wilson sat up beside me, waiting patiently for me to get ready. "I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Us. I think we should take a break and go somewhere."

"Where exactly is somewhere and since when do you up and leave your patients?"

He stood in front of me, hands on hips, with a look of excitement spreading across his face. "We should take a week and head over to Boston. And I've finished three cases; Dumas can take the rest for a week."

"You've already set this up, haven't you?" A smile tugged the corner of my mouth.

"I've already asked Cuddy for the time off and you don't have any patients, or patient I should say, so this would be the perfect time."

I shrugged. "Sounds good. When do we leave?"

"Three days." He grinned.

(break)

"Are you and Wilson dating?"

I looked up from the computer screen, startled by the sudden intrusion and the bizarre question that followed. "Yeah, it's part of a new exercise to relieve stress. See, by dating Wilson I found that it reduces my stress by at least half. You should try it. I'll let you borrow him for a day."

"No thanks. Wilson's not my type." Chase smiled. "I figured you liked him."

"What gave us away?" I turned back to face the screen, resting my elbow on the desk and leaning my head against the fist I made. "Was it the fact I'm wearing his shirt?"

"And that you've always maintained a five inch space which you broke yesterday when you went into your office. And his hand brushed yours. I know you felt it because I saw you smile afterwards." Chase sat down on the opposite side as he tried a worthless attempt at smothering a smug grin that was plastered on his face.

"Great observation." I spoke with no sense of interest and went back to reading the French article on the latest discoveries in brain surgery.

His brow furrowed and his mouth twisted in a frown. "I have to say that I find it a little weird especially since I thought Wilson was…" He shook his head as if that would finish the sentence.

Despite myself, I became interested. "What about Wilson?"

"I thought Wilson was into blondes that's all." He grinned broadly as he ran a hand over his close-cropped hair.

There was something uncertain in his voice. I knew he was lying and was preparing for nothing short of mental torture to get the truth when I saw Wilson turn the corner and stop at my door, hand paused on the handle. He waited as a nurse came up to hand him a file, strands of her blonde hair falling out of a ponytail and the point of her v-neck in dangerous territory. Without meaning to, I wondered whether or not there was something to Chase's comment.

"I might just bleach my hair then." I put on a false smile and unintentionally clenched my hands into fist and brought them together on the desk before me.

"You don't have the looks for it." He said jokingly bit there was no humor in it as he glanced at the fists I had made.

Quickly, I relaxed the fists and asked, "Did you get what you come for or did you want to ask about my sex life next?"

There was a twitch in his nose and a horrified expression flashed across his face momentarily that made me suppress a laugh. "No, actually I came because today's Friday."

I had completely forgotten it was Friday. I don't know how it happened or even why but every week, usually Fridays, Chase and I went out for lunch. I suppose it started a couple months ago, when he first suggested we do lunch. I can't say I mind it though; I never mind free food.

"I'm feeling a Reuben. Let's do the restaurant across from the pub."

"They took Reuben of the menu." He leaned back and crossed his arms comfortably across his chest.

"No they didn't." I argued, glancing at the door to see Wilson had moved a few feet away and was chatting amiably with the nurse.

"We went last week and they waiter even said they took it off. That was the week you told the guy in the next booth he had lung cancer."

"Really? I thought that was three weeks ago."

"Three weeks ago I had to dodge a beer bottled because someone thought I made an inappropriate comment about his wife"

I shrugged. "I give compliments where compliments are due. Anyway, the guy wouldn't stop coughing. Obviously, something was wrong."

"Doesn't mean you tell him he's dying."

"I didn't tell him he's dying I told him he had lung cancer."

He gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile was on his lips. "You know, there are rules for certain social situations. You should learn them. I think it would be a big help."

"Then you wouldn't have nearly as much fun."

A slight nod indicated that he conceded to this latest statement. He turned his head as the door hissed open and rose to his feet. "I'll see you at the usual time then."

"We'll take my bike."

"Maybe next week." He smiled and nodded a greeting to Wilson on his way out.

"What was that?" Wilson asked when Chase had left.

"Lunch date."

He nodded in understanding. "I almost forgot. I had so hoped I would have you to myself this afternoon." He said with a grin.

I laughed briefly in amusement and gazed past him to see Chase chatting with the nurse Wilson had been previously talking with. I bowed my head slightly to look at them through the veil of my lashes. Chase couldn't tell I was watching him and glanced my way. The look on his face unnerved me. I looked up at Wilson's smiling face and couldn't wait until I was alone with him.

AN- My muse has left but I will continue to write! One, maybe two, chapters left. Honestly, I don't know anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

I needed the comfort of the bike and the sense of freedom that came with the revving of the engine and the vibrations on my hands. Chase wasn't enthusiastic about it but reluctantly climbed on the back.

"It's supposed to rain." He said even as he threw his leg over to straddle the motorcycle. "Maybe we should take my car."

"It won't rain till later but if you're so worried about it just take your car. I don't care." With a quick flick of the wrist, I revved the engine to encourage him to make a decision.

"I thought we were taking it next week."

"Won't be here." I turned around and roughly placed the helmet on his head. "Look, if you're going to get off do it now because I'd like to eat sometime soon."

For an answer he placed a hand lightly on my side to keep himself steady. "Are you going somewhere?" He asked as I pulled out, his voice muffled somewhat by the helmet.

"Deep sea diving." I looked over to the right when we stopped at a red light and found a man staring at us with open disgust. His brow was furrowed, giving him the appearance of an ape, and his eyes were narrowed so much in his fat face that they were nothing but little dots. His top lip was pulled up in a sneer that would have been massively impressive had it not been for the beads of sweat that neutralized the effect. Impulse prompted me to open my mouth and say, "You're going to die soon if you don't lay off those triple cheeseburgers, you know." I smiled politely.

Chase groaned. "Oh, God. One day is all I ask." This comment was inexplicably amusing to me that I couldn't help but give a short bark of laughter.

"You're going to die if you don't change your ways." The man growled as he fingered the cross around his neck. "You and your boyfriend."

"I'm not his—" Chase began.

"I like how you assume we're gay. Well, you know what they say about assuming: you become an ass to me." I responded with a smirk. Before he could think of anything to respond, I speed off and turned sharply into the restaurant's parking lot.

"For one day can you try not to insult people?" Chase asked, his voice clearer now as he took off the helmet.

"You forget who you're talking to." I unclipped the cane from bike and placed my right hand under my thigh to help swing it over. "If you had played along we could have had a lot more fun."

"Excuse me for wanting to keep the peace." As soon as he finished speaking there was a loud clap of thunder and a fat drop of rain splattered of the side of my face.

"It won't rain till later." He mocked. I looked over to see him looking sullenly my way and give a heavy sigh as the rain began soaking his shirt in a matter of seconds.

"Technically, it is later." Sarcasm tinged my voice and I didn't try to suppress the smirk that found its way to my lips. I lead the way, albeit slowly, with Chase a half-step behind.

The smell of slightly burnt food and alcohol assaulted my nose followed almost immediately by a greeting of "Hello, Doctors" by two feminine voices as soon as we stepped foot in the door. If there was ever a clearer sign that we ate here way too often it would have to be a billboard. Chase led the way to our usual table near a window that overlooked another restaurant across the street. I sat across from him so that I could see the people coming in and observe the scene on the street. My fingers tapped lightly on the table as if it was a piano while I waited for the waitress to come take our order.

"So you're finally using some of that vacation time." He commented indifferently. He was staring out the window as well with his chin resting on the palm of his right hand, his fingers curled under his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be back to make your live miserable soon enough." I leaned back against the seat with its cracked leather and took a breath. I took comfort in the smell of burnt food and cracked leather seats because of its simplicity, its capacity to exist without having to be analyzed. They just were. There was no reason needed for the seats to be cracked or the waitress to have a pencil tucked above her ear even as she dug in her apron for a pen. It just was.

"The usual today, gentlemen, or something different?" She asked with false cheer as she tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her free ear.

"The usual is fine." Chase answered. He folded his hands on the table and I saw him glance out the corner of his eye at the waitress as she walked away before resuming his watch out the window. "You never told me where you're going."

"Purposely, of course. There's no reason for you to know."

"It would satisfy my curiosity." He glanced quickly at me with an almost bored looked but I saw the sharp look of interest in his eye before he turned away.

No sooner had he turned his gaze to the window his shoulders tensed almost without being seen and he quickly turned to face me with an almost undue amount of attention. He rapped his knuckles once on the table and bit his lip as if deciding whether or not to say what was on his mind. "I've had a thought." He said suddenly with more animation in his voice than I had heard in a long while.

"And that thought would be?" I tried to look out the window, curious of what had given him such an idea that made him so animated but he rapped his knuckles on the table again and I found myself staring into his eyes. They were so wide and bright with sudden fervor that I found myself slightly unnerved by it.

"There's a jazz festival coming up in a couple of weeks. I had planned it out when Allison was here but, well, you know how that went, obviously. If you like, Wilson could come too." Chase sat back with lips pursed to suppress a self-satisfied smile. His quick glance outside did not go unnoticed.

I shrugged a response, wondering what was real the reason for his words but let it pass as the waitress came with our food. Curiosity prompted me to look outside where my eyes fell upon the window of the other restaurant. My own shoulders tensed and I dropped my hand onto the table with a dull thud.

It was raining and my eyesight had dimmed somewhat over the years but I knew that man in the window. He leaned to the right and propped his right elbow upon the table, a characteristic of a left-handed person. When he laughed, he leaned back a little and rubbed the bridge of his nose every few minutes. Also the disgusting yellow shirt was a dead giveaway and I knew it could only be Wilson sitting with the pretty blonde nurse, still in her lavender scrubs.

I rose from the table so quickly that I hit my thigh on the edge and the pain was so nearly unbearable that I nearly collapsed back onto the seat I ignored the pain, shoved it as far into the deepest corner of my mind as I possibly could to limp toward the door. I had to know for certain, I had to see him up close.

"House." Chase called my name before I even made it to the door but I ignored him because he knew and he lied to me. But I reasoned that I had lied to myself too. For a week and three days I had suspected but never let my thoughts rest on the possibility, never questioned his sincerity or his devotion.

Chase caught up to me a few steps from the door and not for the first time did I loathe my inability to run. In my periphery I saw him motion to the waitress to give us a minute and followed me out the door.

"House, wait a minute." He yelled over a monstrous clap of thunder.

"You bastard." I snarled, pivoting on my good leg. "You knew. That's what you were hiding today in my office and just now. I wonder, how much did he pay you to cover for him or did you do it just to make me look like an idiot?"

"I wasn't covering for him and I wouldn't want to make you look like an idiot." He said indignantly.

"Do _not_ lie to me right now. Why are we even here? You don't even like me."

He threw up his hands and let loose a breath laced with frustration. "Why would I lie? It would be a lot more trouble than it's worth. Besides that, believe it or not, I actually do like you. Why do you think I voluntarily spend time with you? You're the only misanthropic person I know that makes life not completely miserable."

I tried to ignore him but he followed right beside me even as I crossed the street without bothering to wait for the light to turn red. Cars screeched to a halt, some inches from me, and I wished they would hit me just so I could be spared the utter desolation that was bound to come.

"What if it's not him?" Chase asked. "You can't be sure."

"You obviously thought it was him, that's good enough for me."

He stopped me at the door with a hand on my forearm. "What are you planning to do?"

"Oh, you know, break a few glasses, pull some hair. Maybe I'll even use my cane for good measure." I pulled away from his touch and went inside.

I spotted them immediately and she saw me a heartbeat later. I couldn't remember her name but then again I felt no need to. She obviously recognized me by the way she smiled and waved with bubbly good cheer and pointed me out to Wilson. He had been seated with his back to the door and twisted around to see me. The smile on his face fell and his lips parted slightly as his eyebrows rose in surprise. As I stood there, dripping wet in his shirt, I realized that this was a far more devastating blow than I had initially thought and words that I had wanted to say disappeared like paper in a fire.

"Fucking fantastic." I whispered, unaware that my hands were shaking and my eyes stung until I was back standing in the rain.

AN- I felt it right. Wilson just wouldn't be Wilson if he didn't cheat.


	8. Chapter 8

I wanted to be mad at her –that nurse– I wanted to curse her and call her a bitch. But I wasn't and I didn't. I felt sorry for her, I envied her even, because I knew that she had no idea what was going on. She believed Wilson was the perfectly single, straight doctor that she had been lucky enough to get her hands on. Wilson would never have volunteered information that suggested otherwise. The worst part is I think he would have lied to save himself from what he believed to be an embarrassment. Whether the embarrassment was me or him being gay was still a question and I didn't want to know the answer.

"Greg, stop and talk to me for a minute. Please." Wilson's voice called from behind, breaking me out of the trance that seemed to come over me.

I ignored him and kept walking; refusing to think of anything but of how much my leg was going to hurt because of this damn dull rain. There was a gentle hand on my shoulder that gave me pause. I spun around, cane hefted in defense, and nearly collapsed as my leg gave out when I overstepped my boundaries and put too much weight on it. I would've hit the pavement if Chase hadn't quickly adjusted his grip and held me upright by my forearm.

"It's alright. I've got you." He murmured as if I was some sort of child. He must have thought I was shaken from my near fall because I was shivering from the cold and anger.

"No, it's not alright." I gestured heatedly towards Wilson who had finally decided to come out from the safety of the restaurant and into the rain. "I'm standing in a parking lot, soaked through, and my leg hurts worse than you can possibly fucking imagine. What about any of this situation is alright?"

"Greg, please just come inside and sit down so we can talk." Wilson pleaded, pushing his hair to the side so it wouldn't obscure his vision.

"Now you want to call me by my first name?" I said angrily. "Don't pretend we're this loving couple, not now."

"You never call me by first name so I don't see what that has to do with anything." Wilson shot back.

"Because I've liked you since I met you therefore nothing should change." Frustration was building up in my chest making me feel physically sick. I wanted to grab my hair and pull until it brought tears. I wanted to scream until there was no more breath left in me. I wanted to not care. I wanted to be dead.

"Things have to change, Greg. Otherwise we'll be stuck in the same place forever." Wilson said just loud enough to be heard over the hammering of rain.

"Don't talk to me about change. You haven't changed at all. I knew you would become disenchanted with this," I gestured between us, "eventually but I never thought it would come so soon. I wonder when it was you finally realized what exactly it was we were doing. Was it the day you decided to sleep with that nurse or was it earlier? Please, tell me because I'm dying to find out."

Wilson looked as if he had been hit but the blow that came to him was nowhere near like the one that just hit me. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy his hurt look even a little.

"House, I think we should go." Chase turned to me and spoke in a low tone so only I could hear. I realized that he still had my arm in his hand but I made no move to remove it. "You can both talk when you're calmer and someplace better."

I spun around, pulling out of his grasp, and continued my miserable walk back to my motorcycle. I did not care if hail came down. I needed to get out of here. My head was bowed though whether it was against the rain or to hide the tell-tale tears in the corners of my eye, I wasn't sure. I nearly made it back to my bike when my vision was filled with Wilson's distressed face.

"I screwed up." He said. He put his hands up, nearly touching my chest, to stop me.

"No, you're screwed up, Wilson. You've done it to others before. I don't know why I believe I would be an exception." I tried to get past but every time I tried he would step in front and block my path.

"Now wait, Greg. You aren't the only one that has a right to get upset."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I gave up trying to move around him and planted my cane firmly on the ground so I could take some weight off the injured leg.

"You honestly think that I don't know about you and Chase?" Wilson shouted angrily.

Chase stood beside me, a look of indignation etched on his face. "Wilson, I don't know what gave you the idea that House and I are involved but I assure you—"

"Don't explain anything to him." I interrupted. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I found Wilson's statement amusing. "Guilty people always try to share the guilt."

"Explain to me why you're always together then." Wilson said, anger tinting his voice. "Because no one voluntarily spends time with you unless they're getting _something_ out of it." As soon as the words were spoken he shut his mouth with an audible clashing of teeth.

That was it. That was the end of my world as I knew it. My stomach did back flips and my heart skipped a beat. I stopped breathing.

I remember trying to walk away and someone grabbing my arm. I remember feeling my knuckles crack as they connected with a jaw but whose jaw it was I couldn't say. After that it was a blank. It was like my memory was wiped clean because I didn't remember anything until I woke up in a hospital bed.

"That's was a pretty idiotic thing to do especially for someone like you."

I looked over to see Thirteen seated in the chair beside the bed, her legs neatly tucked under her.

"What happened?"

"Motorcycle, no helmet, rain. Sound familiar?" She got up in stood by the bed to flash the penlight in my eye. "Pig, monkey, sheep, goat, rat. Your turn."

"Pig, monkey, goat, sheep, rodent."

"You got goat and sheep mixed up. If you can tell me what kind of rodent I'll be impressed enough to tell Cuddy that you're cleared to get out of here."

"I'm getting old. Sue me. And it was a rat." I over at the machines monitoring my heart rate and BP. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long. Do you remember anything?"

"Not really, why?"

"We had to give you a mild sedative when you got here. Anyway, since you have a history of skull fracture I suggest you stay here for a little while to be monitored until we're sure everything checks out fine." She leaned against the railing with her easy smile on her face as she looked at me. "So, are you going to tell me what you were doing with no helmet in the rain?"

"Just felt like riding in the rain…or is it dancing? I always get those two mixed up." I touched my fingertips lightly to my skull, feeling a little pain the harder I touched.

"Does it hurt? A headache could mean—"

"It's a headache from, you know, when I fell off my bike and hit my head. It's not even a headache it's just sore." I looked down to examine the scratches on the palm of my hands. "I must have rolled. There's more damage to my hands then my head."

Just as Thirteen opened her mouth to reply the door opened and Chase walked in sporting a rapidly coloring bruise under his left eye and holding my jacket and helmet in his hand.

"What happened to you?" She said almost casually. After working with me for this long hardly anything surprises them anymore.

"Disagreement. Can you leave us alone for a minute, please?"

"Of course." Thirteen answered and left after throwing another smile my way. Accidents make everyone love you.

As soon as she left he threw himself into the chair and sighed heavily, putting my things at the foot of the bed to cradle his head in his hands.

"Did I hit you?" I asked.

"No." He replied with a heavy breath.

Sucking in a mouthful of air, I swirled it around before breathing it out. "I'm sorry I thought you were covering for Wilson."

"It's alright but can you not talk for a minute?"

"Why?"

"Because I think I'm about to be sick."

"From what? The food?"

"No, from you." Chase looked up to glare at me but his eyes softened a second later and he sighed again. "I thought you were seriously injured and I remembered you forgot your helmet which I might add is a stupid thing to do."

"So I've been told."

"Why do you have to be so fucking reckless?" His eyes pleaded with me for understanding. "The entire ride over here was easily the worst ride I've ever had."

"I thought I forgot something. Sorry I left you."

"That's not the point. What I'm trying to say is that I've never been more afraid of losing someone. I wish Wilson was right about us because I love you."

Like I said: accidents make everyone love you.

_AN- What have I done? Now I'm going to have to flip a coin again and see who gets who…or you could tell me what you would like in a review or something. Just a suggestion. Anyway, hope you enjoyed…_


	9. Chapter 9

"No you don't." I sighed and pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, wondering how the fuck I got to this point in my life. "You've manipulated your feelings into something you think I want to hear."

"I—"

"Think about it. At any time, have you ever felt anything foe me like you did for Cameron?" I watched him ponder over the question, his blue eyes staring at the dips and folds in the sheet.

"You're right."

"I'm always right." I replied sarcastically.

"And you're wrong." He gave a smile somewhere between mocking and sympathetic. "I'll admit that I don't feel for you the same way I did for Cameron but I do love you."

"Spare my feelings. I know you don't."

"Can you shut up and listen?" He paused, waiting for me to respond.

"You know, I'm waiting for you to continue." I said when the silence stretched on.

"I was making sure you wouldn't interrupt again. Now, I want you to know that you have been the biggest pain in my ass. You were always at my shoulder ready with insulst or throwing my ideas back in my face and telling me to come up with something better. I hated coming to work because I couldn't stand you sometimes."

"Please, stop. I think I might cry." I said deadpan.

"And over the last few months I realize that I hated coming to work because all the belittling comments you yell at me only made me feel like I've disappointed you somehow. I realize now that you were always at my shoulder, making sure I didn't screw up or when I did you corrected it and, in a completely insane way, helped me grow as a person. After a year with you I found that I thought outside the box more and I looked at everything differently. From day one, you did for me what my own father never did. I love you for that."

I don't think I could've responded if I wanted to. Maybe I didn't love him like a son, hell I probably wouldn't even know how to love my own child, but I did want to see him develop and stop conforming to what everyone wanted or thought he should be. I could've told him that I was almost happy about the changes he made and how he perceived life. I should've told him that all I ever wanted was for him was the capability to stand on his own two feet without needing anyone behind him. I should've told him thanks. I didn't. I never said a thing because Wilson appeared in the doorway, sporting a bruise on his jaw and cheekbone.

"Hey." He said breathlessly as if he had just come in from a run. "Can I talk you? Alone?"

All eyes were on me, waiting for the answer with almost comic tension. I shrugged indifferently. Chase rose from his seat and touched my shoulder.

"If you go anywhere, try not to forget you stuff." He said with a smile. He brushed past Wilson as if he weren't there on his way out.

"Do you mind?" Wilson asked after Chase left, gesturing to the blinds.

"Go ahead." I refused to look at him as he closed and instead picked up the remote to flip idly through channels.

"Hi, House." He said wearily as he sat down on the chair Chase had previously occupied.

"Bye, Wilson."

"Can I just say that I'm sorry?"

I glanced over the see him rubbing the side of his face gingerly. "You really are." I turned off the television and turned to face him. "Why are you even here?"

"I get direct pages now from the nurses whenever you end up here."

"You can go back to your girlfriend. There's no need to pretend anymore."

"I don't have a girlfriend and I don't want one." He replied. "Would you believe me if I said I got scared?"

"Scared of what? We were in this for two months, Wilson; two fucking months. The most you had to be scared of was me slipping my colored clothes in with your whites and I think we already covered that."

"I was afraid you'd get tired of me."

"So you cleverly did what you were afraid I would do. Genius, pure genius."

"I never got tired of you." His voiced rose in frustration and he quickly quieted himself, rubbing at the side of his face as if he could rub out the tension. "What do I do for you? Why am I here? Support? You never needed it. A listening ear for your problems? No because you hate talking about your problems. I feel like the only thing I'm giving you is regular sex."

"Not lately."

"So tell me; what is it that your getting out of this? I don't want to be in this and feel like I'm just taking from you."

"Go home, Wilson." I said, turning my back to him. "We'll talk about it tomorrow when neither of us feels quite so pathetic."

"No, let's talk about it now. What are you getting from us being together?"

"At the moment; a whole lot of useless grief." I felt the bed dip under his weight when he sat beside me.

"House, I'm sorry about what I did. I told her everything."

"Too bad she didn't hit you. You deserved it."

"I know."

It was silent for a moment, deep and cataclysmic. It seemed to swallow up all other sounds but that of the breath leaving my body in a quiet exhale.

"Just about every day is miserable." I said suddenly, without thought, without warning. "With you around it not as miserable. I feel like maybe someday it won't be miserable at all. And I like when you know when to talk to me and when just to be there." I turned and saw him staring at me with complete focus. It seemed every molecule in his body was focused on me. "I'm afraid some times that you'll get tired of me. Every wrong move or word makes me think that that's it; you'll walk away and leave me alone. I've tried to make myself indestructible but I'm not and I can't be. I need you. Even if you don't voluntarily spend time with me it's better than a miserable day without you."

He reached out tentatively to touch my arm, stroking it with his fingertips and leaving slight trails of water. "I didn't mean that, you know. I was afraid and angry. It doesn't make it right but I didn't mean it."

"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't but it doesn't matter anymore." I laced my fingers in his. I was always one for holding a grudge but now I didn't want to. I wanted to move forward and have this all behind us because, really, that's all we can do.

"We're two screwed up people aren't we?" He asked, half-jokingly.

"Maybe someday we'll get it right."

AN- It's come to my attention that some of you may want an alternate version (Chase/House) so I'll post it and be finished. Thank you for all your reviews they make me feel loved


	10. Chapter 10

~Alternate Ending

It was like I overdosed snorting Vicodin again. I was lost inside my head, asking questions that made no sense and wondering about irrelevant things. I wondered; what did he taste like? Was his skin soft and smooth like Wilson's or rougher and more calloused like mine? How would his first name taste on my tongue? For a moment I didn't realize I was staring at him, lips parted and eyes glassed over like a little china doll's. I was more like that china doll than I knew, fragile and easy to tarnish. I more tarnished than any of them realized. No one could love me. No one should love me. I was ruined.

"Say something." Chase pleaded, wide-eyed as if surprised by his own confession.

I shook my head slightly to clear it. "You don't love me."

"I do. I tried to tell you before but I was afraid." He bowed his head to hide the flush of his cheeks. His hands clasped and he rested his chin on them as if in prayer. "I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same. I was afraid you would stop going out with me and I didn't want that to end."

"Stop being an idiot. You don't love me. If anything it's purely platonic." I snorted in humorless amusement and reached for the remote so I could successfully end this conversation.

He grabbed the remote before I could and threw it on the chair as he stood above me, hands gripping the railing of the bed. "I think about you at the most random times and it kills me. I could look at the sky and think how blue your eyes are or hear some jazz piece coming from a passing car and wonder if you've heard it before. Every time you walk into the same room as me as have to remember not to smile. Fine, call me an idiot because that's what I am but only because I didn't tell you sooner." He was looking at me intently, searching for some indication that I felt the same or at least acknowledged his admission of love.

"Why are you doing this?" I felt hurt by his confession and my heart beat painfully in my chest. It was a prison, my chest. The ribs were bars for the heart to beat against, hard and unyielding to protect it from the outside world. I broke a couple ribs once.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you get some sort of sick pleasure out of this?" The monitor was beeping loud and quick. I reached across to turn it off only to wish it was still on as the silence became more oppressive.

"Your pulse is racing. Are you afraid?" He laid his hand tenderly on my arm.

"I have no reason to be." I replied. "I'm sitting next to the world's biggest pansy."

The door slid out with a hiss and we both looked to see Wilson walk in. He must have stopped to change because his clothes and hair were both dry. He looked as if he never stepped foot outside.

"Scratch that." I said. "Second biggest."

"Am I interrupting?" Wilson asked, glancing at the hand Chase still had on my arm.

"No." I answered casually.

Wilson shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. "Can I talk to you? Alone?"

I shrugged indifferently. "Chase was just about to leave."

Chase pressed lightly on my arm before removing his hand. "I'll be around." He brushed past Wilson and I could see the tension that set in his shoulders.

"Hey, House." Wilson said after Chase had left.

"Bye, Wilson." I rolled over so I wouldn't have to see him.

"Would you let me explain?"

"You mean make excuses. I don't want to hear it. We're done."

I heard his loafers strike the floor as he came to stand by me. "That's it? You're not even going to give this another try? We can work past this."

"You don't cheat after two months if you're willing to work hard enough to move past this." I growled and grabbed the pillow to put it over my head. I was breathing warm stale air but I didn't care. I wanted him to go away. I wanted the silence to weigh in me. I wanted Chase with his soft voice and gentle hand to come back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Didn't what? Mean to get caught? Well, you blew it. Congratulations. Don't worry I'll move out before your new girlfriend moves in. It'll be close though since you'll probably want to move her in within the week." My voice was muffled by the pillow and it was childish but I didn't care. My fingers dug into the cushion and for a moment I didn't feel so miserable or hurt.

"I don't want to move in. Please, don't move out." His voice was pleading and cracked as if he was close to tears if he wasn't already there.

"You can't help yourself. I should've known this would happen. The worst part is now I'm not even angry at you anymore." I removed the pillow and glare up at him. His eyes were rimmed red and tears were welling up. I was heartless right now; cold and unmoving. "I'm angry at myself for even entertaining the thought that this could work. We can't move past this because there will always be that doubt, that suspicion. I can't wonder if I'm sharing you with someone else. I won't."

He reached out and touched my hand. "Please don't just give this up."

"You gave up, Wilson. We're through. I don't hate you though." I added as almost an afterthought. "I can't."

"Do I still have a chance?"

"No but I will allow your presence. Mayfield has decreased my ability to hold a grudge so we can still be friends but nothing more."

"I'll keep trying, you know. I don't want this to end."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, it was good while it lasted. I'll miss you."

"I haven't gone anywhere."

"Yeah, you have." He kissed my cheek quickly and stroked my hair with his soft hands before he left.

I felt like someone hit me in the chest. My eyes were shut tight to the world and the pillow was held firmly to my chest as air stuttered in my lungs, coming out in gasping, staccato breaths. I never heard the footsteps that came up to me. There was only the soft hand rubbing my arm, prying my hand from its death grip on the pillow to take it in its warm grasp.

"Why?" I asked, still keeping my eyes shut. "I'm a broken, misanthropic, crippled pain in the ass."

"You're not broken." Chase replied as he ran thumb over my knuckles. "Sure, you're a little bit of a misanthrope, you're crippled, and you're quite possibly the biggest pain in the ass I've ever met but it's impossible for me to find negativity in any of it."

My mouth went dry so I couldn't speak and my brain stopped forming coherent thoughts as I looked up at him. Chase was handsome in his sincerity, in his gentleness. I loved him then. It was different from Wilson. With Wilson, I felt his affections were never all there but with Chase I felt the focus of his affection. It was scary being so loved because I had never felt it before. His lips were on mine before I could have protested. I wouldn't have even if I wanted to. He tasted of chips and beer and his lips were soft. The hand he had holding mine was rougher than Wilson's but not so calloused as mine and he moved it up my arm and placed it at the nape of my neck so he could brush his thumb over my stubble. It was a different experience entirely being kissed by someone who loves you wholeheartedly. I was aware that his attention was focused on me and I loved him for that. I realized that I could never have loved Wilson the way I loved Chase but didn't endeavor to dwell on it too long because Chase had his lips parted just waiting for my tongue to enter.


End file.
